Revolutionary America's Playlist
by 15animefreak15
Summary: A music meme I got off of DA. Just a bunch of short snippets written to various songs. :3


Just a music meme I got off of Deviantart. Here are the rules:

DA Music Meme for Writers

1. Pick a character, fandom, pairing, friendship, whatever.

2. Put your music program on shuffle/ random and start playing songs.

3. For each song, write something inspired by the song related to the theme you chose earlier. You only have the song length. No pre-planning and no writing after the song is over. No skipping songs either.

4. Do 10 songs and post. Make sure to include the song name/ artist.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything Hetalia related. I also own none of these songs.

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**1. Serah's Theme – Masashi Hamauzu**

America had just one wish. He wanted to be free. He knew, once he was free, everything would be perfect. All sunshine and daisies, even if everyone seemed to tell him otherwise. But he had faith. He did not hate them for trying to change his mind, but he would never give in. Alfred knew, he just _knew _that when his day of freedom came, it would be like a million butterflies being released inside of him. He was so excited, he could hardly wait. And he would fight.

**2. Papermoon - Tommy heavenly6**

America panted heavily as he ran through the rain, doing his best not to slip or slide on the soaked grass. It was nearly impossible to see in the downpour, all sunlight gone from the world though it was the middle of the afternoon. The normally blue sky was now a sheet of pale gray, and Alfred had to squint hard in an effort to decipher the blue from the red. There was the sound of gunfire and shouting all around him, as well as the slice of metal on metal. He had no idea how long they had been fighting now, when it had become close-quarters combat with more sword and bayonet fighting than actual shooting. America himself had been forced to duck and dodge more than one blow, and he was rather certain a few had been from his own men. He leaped to the right as a sword sliced through the air, nicking his uniform and nearly cutting through his flesh as well. Turning on his heel to face his newest opponent, all fight and determination drained from his face as blue eyes locked with green. No, nonono_nononono, _it could not be, it just could not! Not him! Not here! Not now! His musket hung loosely in his hands, heart beginning to hammer in his chest as they stared each other down.

"E-England..."

"Hello, Alfred."

**3. Revolution - Trading Yesterday**

America sighed heavily as he sat on a hill overlooking the camp, upper right arm and torso heavily bandaged. The last battle had been tough, and he had been shot twice. They had been forced to retreat, and he had managed to make it to the camp before collapsing. When he woke, it was the next day and he was all bandaged up. Alfred was incredibly sore, but he refused the laudanum and morphine the doctor offered him. His men needed it far more than he did, and his wounds would heal up soon enough anyway. Besides, the feeling of his people slowly dying in battle was far worse than any physical injury he might receive. Yet there was a balance, he could feel his people's hope rising with each victory, their determination and stubbornness never wavering even after a defeat. The redcoats could kill them, capture them, starve them, force them to freeze to death and die of disease and infection, but his people would never give up until they got their freedom. It made him smile, pride swelling in his chest as he watched the soldiers converse and wander about the camp below. If these men could do it, mere humans, then surely he could as well. He could stand up to England and defeat him, could hold his own against one of Europe's greatest empires. He would do what others had never done before. This revolution was everything. The world was watching with baited breath, even if most would not admit it. And he would give them a show.

**4. L'Italia di Piero - Simoni Cristicchi**

America would laugh at the Europeans' opinion of him. How they believed him to be a rebellious, wild child who would soon learn his place at the hands of an empire. They all looked down their noses at him, scoffing at his homespun clothes while they basked in their silk and satin finery. While they wore jewels, he wore dirt. While they wielded polished swords, he used a well-worn musket. While they rode noble steeds into battle, he used his own two God-given feet. And though they may carry many copies of their flag raised high by their men, all he needed was one. One flag sewn with love and shown with pride. The Europeans could say what they wanted, but America knew he was better.

**5. Treacherous Sunset - Theatre Brook**

America laughed as he ran from the pair of redcoats chasing after him, swerving among the trees of the forest with ease. He could hear them stumbling and tripping after him, cursing him for his choice of terrain. He could not help it if those silly British soldiers were unused to running through such lush forests, riddled with thick roots to catch unsuspecting feet and low-hanging branches that would fell someone were they not paying proper attention. Of course, there were man-made dangers as well. America grinned and skidded to a halt as he heard a crash behind him, followed by yelps of surprise and more cursing. Looking back, he was glad to see his pitfall had worked. The soldiers were now trapped up to their waists in thick mud. He laughed again as they glared at him, before giving a salute and running off into the forest once more.

**6. My Happy Ending - Avril Lavigne**

America fell to his knees, blue eyes wide as the rain poured down on his head. He... he just could not believe it... no... it could not be... How could he have failed? He was close... so close... Maybe if he had gotten France's help, and Prussia had not abandoned him for a lost cause, a-and...

Oh God, he was going to be sick. This could not be happening. His fingers dug into the mud as he dropped even lower, breathing heavy as he began to hyperventilate and panic. Alfred could hear footsteps approaching, but the sound was faraway and unimportant as his eyes began to burn with the threat of tears. He forced them back, incisors digging hard into his lip. No... no, he would not give _that man _the satisfaction of seeing him cry. In fact, he should not even be on his knees! He-

A leather boot came down on his back, _hard, _just as he was about to get up. His face met the mud and he quickly yanked it back out, coughing hard. England was clearly unsympathetic as he stared down at him, foot squarely in place. He even ground in his heel, to add insult to injury.

"I told you it would fail, did I not? Now look at you. Pitiful. I was too soft... but no matter what, you are _mine._"

And Alfred could not stop the tears then, as he cried for his people.

**7. Bliss - Muse**

America stared up at the clear night sky as he lay in the grass, able to hear the sounds of laughter and singing at the nearby campfire. He was not in the mood for it, though. Not tonight. He just wanted to lie back and think of England, as silly as that might sound. Alfred could not help it, though. He could never forget the happy times they had shared together, all the bedtime stories and little gifts. He had to wonder, if it was not for the years of separation, would he have stayed with England. Would he still have rebelled if that affection he so craved and loved had always been there, instead of coming and going? The thought made him sad, and he curled up on his side, wondering how England was feeling right now. Was he happy? Was he enjoying himself? Or was he just as sad and longing for the past as America was? Of course he wanted freedom. His people craved it, and so did he. Yet he knew he was hurting England. The man had been just as attached to him, and that was why he was fighting now. His delegates might try and convince him it was all for money, land, and resources, but he knew a part of England did not want to lose him. He was going to hang on for as long as he could, even if it would make their inevitable separation all the more painful.

**8. Billionaire - Travie McCoy ft. Bruno Mars**

Sometimes, America wondered what it would be like to have all the money in the world. To be able to buy whatever you wanted or needed without having to worry about it later. He could just imagine it. He could probably _buy _his freedom from England. Or, if not, he could easily buy _allies. _Money was everything. It was one of the reasons they were in this war! Taxes England had imposed on them to help cover the costs of his own wars, taking money they had earned to fix his problems. America knew it was part of being a colony, but it still upset him. It was not fair. He could not wait for the day his people could keep their money, not have to give it away to foreign powers for taxes. Of course, they would pay for goods, but only if they wanted to. They would not have to rely on England for their imports, but could instead choose whom they traded with. Just the idea made America incredibly excited. Call him greedy, but he would not be alone.

**9. Whatever You Imagine - Wendy Moten**

America had always had a wild, active imagination. He could picture the stories England told him in his head, and he would often play pretend. He could be anything. A pirate, surfing the high seas on the search for treasure. A handsome prince riding his majestic steed to save the beautiful princess from her tower. He could even fight a dragon in the woods, making use of an ancient, fallen tree. Sticks were his swords, animals and foliage alike his enemies or his allies, the creek was his ocean. There was no limit to his imagination. It should have been no surprise his fantasies morphed into ideas as he grew. Ideas of freedom and equality, justice and liberty for all. And unlike his old playtime fantasies, these were going to come true. He would _make _them come true. Alfred would not give up, even if he lost this war. He would keep fighting, keep rebelling, until he made England surrender to his will and ideals. The world would see his dreams become a reality, even if it killed him.

**10. Because of You - Kelly Clarkson**

"You used to be so big..."

England just continued to sob at his feet, lost, broken, having surrendered. America was stunned. Had... had he done this? How? England was always so strong, so powerful, unwavering in everything he did. He was undefeatable. Alfred had always dreamed of this day, and yet, now that it was here... He did not enjoy it nearly as much as he thought he would. Standing there, watching his big brother cry his heart out over his loss... it hurt. It hurt a lot.

America wanted to drop to his knees and hug the man, but knew he could not. What they had was gone now. Perhaps they could have gotten it back if he surrendered, if he gave up on his dreams. But he had not. And now he had to deal with the consequences. As his men began to cheer happily in the background, tossing hats and guns into the air, Alfred could not tear his gaze away from England.

"D-damn it... why..." the broken nation sobbed, drenched by the rain.

"Because, England. I wanted to be free. You would not allow it, so I took it. I... I am sorry it had to be this way... Arthur..."

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**Review please~**


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